


Daddy's Girl

by Romanumeternal



Series: Julia and Marlia [5]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Alternate History, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Ancient Greece & Rome, Alternate Universe - Ancient Rome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-21
Updated: 2018-10-21
Packaged: 2019-08-05 02:25:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16358903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Romanumeternal/pseuds/Romanumeternal
Summary: Julia Antonia Amelia Callarius had managed to get herself in trouble and her father some spectacularly bad press. Her father's slave might be her only hope of forgiveness, acceptance, and her allowance being restored before next Saturnulia.





	Daddy's Girl

laudilo looked at me, raising an eyebrow.

 

"You know, dominus, eventually you may have to speak to your daughter."

I glared, not at him, but at the headlines spread before me. The Republican said SENATOR'S DAUGHTER DRUNK AND DISORDERLY. The Plebian Guardian informed its readers that PATRICIAN'S BRAT REJECTS ROMULUS - REMUS IS 'SEXIER'. The Prosperity Journal took the position that STATUE OF OUR FOUNDER DEFACED BY ROMULIST SENATOR'S DAUGHTER! Invictus took an even harsher line, with DRUNKEN DEPRAVITY DISGUSTS US. The Thracian Chronicle was slightly more lenient, with WILD PARTY LEAVES STATUE NEEDING REPAIR, but then they were always boring. Thrace tends not to attract much in the way of news, and thus not much in the way of skilled and ambitious journalists. 

I supposed I should be grateful that not every paper had thought Julia's indescretions worthy of a mention. The Romulist, for example, had decided that the interests of the Party faithful were perhaps not best served by learning about the drunken activities of the daughter of a Romulist Senator. And Loyalty, of course, rarely ran any news whatsoever, although I guessed now Claudilo could write an article for them, along the lines of "So your dominus' daughter has disgraced the family name! Five things you MUST do!" or "How to get the young domina out of the Vigilium's cells - without scandal!". 

 

I looked at the frontpage of Invictus, seething. Normally, I was their poster-boy; the brave, if somewhat eccentric Senator who regularly called for more law, order, republican pride and tradition, and less taxes, radical ideas and government waste. Seeing them lay into both Julia and me felt a bit like a betrayal; which curiously the paper was also accusing me of. The others, of course, were snidely pointing out that my daughter was, apparently, a wild and ungovernable avatar of Bacchus, but Invictus was adding the extra touch that I was betraying every single citizen who still held any pride whatsoever in Rome, whilst claiming to speak for them - that I was, in short, a gutless, spinless, barbarian loving hypocrite. 

It was, in short, probably unlikely that I'd be asked to write any articles again for them - at least in the near future. 

I read the editorial aloud.

"Senatar Callarius" I said, "has always attracted our admiration for his brave and principled stand for order, tradition and the Republican way. Whether condemning the appallingly high taxes meted out to the most successful in our Republic, the decline in civic virtue, the increasing and pernicious leniency shown towards criminals and this Republic's seemingly spineless approach to other nations, he has always struck us as a true and rock solid anchor in the frequently fluid and treacherous waters of the Senate. But his daughter's recent appalling antics - including defacing a statue of the Great Founder Romulus instead, leads us to revise our opinion. Encilio tells us that a man who raises ungovernable children cannot hope to-"

 

I stopped, throwing the paper down on my desk angrily. "Romulus above, Claudilo! The girl's an embarrassment. Gets drunk, defaces a statue of Romulus -, and finally gets arrested by the Vigilium. She's lucky she wasn't hauled before a judge!"

 

I'd paid her fine, of course, an eye watering amount. In all honesty, it could have paid for a dozen more statues of Romulus. I had a feeling the town council of Ebric was going to be having some very expensive dinners in the future. But it got her out of the cells, in the company of a ver embarassed Claudilo, at least, and straight back home - where she'd so far spent a week stuck in her room whilst I sat and fumed. 

 

Claudilo winced. Strangely, despite the fact he'd caught the flight to Londinium at some ungodly hour when the Aedile for Order personally phoned me (a task no doubt hastily kicked upwards by every Vigilium officer once they'd realised - or more likely, Julia had loudly told them - exactly whose daughter they'd arrested), and spent two frustrating days in the drizzle and cold of Britain, he was the one who seemed less angry with her. 

 

"I'm not denying she hadn't been incredibly stupid, dominus..."

 

 

"Good, then we're on the same page, for once." I looked up at him. "Honestly. Her brothers, all of them, all young men I can be proud off. A credit to Amelia and myself. But her? Barely scrapes through her tutoring, despite sending  her to the best school in the Republic. Spends a fortune on rubbish, no ambitions, no nothing." I slammed my fist down on the desk. "Not content with that, she drags my name, the family name, through the mud."

 

For some reason, my mind briefly flashed to Olia, my son Quintus'...well, it was complicated. Lets stick with 'friend' and ignore the fact she was a slave, he was my son, and I owned her. (Hell, I didn't have a problem with it - I'd be more worried if he had an attractive slavegirl around and didn't want to sleep with her). She was attractive, sure, but also bright, willing, and with a hidden spine of steel. Were it not for an accident of birth, I reflected, I'd be proud to call her my daughter - or indeed, daughter in law. As it was, she was technically not even a person until she hit thirty five - a fate she had due, in part, to my own actions...

 

I pulled my attention back, to the moment. Claudilo was looking slightly embrassed. I sometimes thought he was fonder of Julia than I was; the daughter he never had. Conversely, she sometimes reminded me (when was wasn't making a nuisance of herself, at any rate) a bit too much of her mother. That, and the fact her brothers already had a long list of accomplishments to their name meant she'd often fallen off my radar, so to speak.

 

 

Mind you, I wished she'd found a better way of getting back on it.

 

"Claudilo" I said, patiently "I'm not going to let her off. I'm not going to hug her and tell her all is forgiven, because it isn't."

 

He nodded, slowly. "Could you at least...talk to her, then, dominus?" He blinked, and then put a surprising amount of emotion into his voice. "She's...she's very upset, dominus. Sobbing herself to sleep most nights. I think if you'd just talk to her, she'd feel a bit better."

 

That was possibly being over-optimistic. I doubt many of our father-daughter chats had made either of us feel very much better. 

I swallowed. "No. And that's final. No one else in this house is to speak to her either, save for urgent business, until I say otherwise. She needs to learn she does not drag my honour through the mud."

 

Claudilo took a glance at my face, opened his mouth to speak, then decided against it.

 

"Your will, then, dominus."

 

I frowned but did not say anything. When he said that, he meant he thought my course of action was the stupidest thing he'd ever heard since Garius came up with the idea of an amphibious invasion of Freisreich in winter. 

 

"Glad we agree" I said, dryly, glancing towards the papers. "Right, damage control. Time for a bit of image restoration, I think."  
**************************************************************************************************************  
Julia sat in her room, miserably staring at the wall, almost invisible through the haze of her tears.

 

She was bored stiff. Her father hated her - sh'd seen the hurt and anger in his face, briefly, although there as of yet had been no horrible session in the study where she'd be chewed out for her misdeeds. She'd been arrested, strip searched, locked in a cell for eighteen hours. And she was pretty sure the slaves were laughing at her behind her back. Whores, the lot of them. When she got out of her, she'd see them all flayed; especially that snotty bitch Olia, who just because she was reguarly fucking Quintus seemed to think she was above it all. Stupid stuck up slave.

 

No one had been to see her, ever since she was brought back to the home in disgrace. The slaves ignored her when they bustled into her room to do their duties. Claudilo had spoken barely a word. Her friends had been banned from contacting her, and her brothers...

 

"Well, they probably hate me too" she said, knowing she was about to burst into tears at any moment again.

 

At first, she'd hammered on the door, shouting angrily, but no one had come. That had been a first. Usually, people came running when she demanded it, except this time, they hadn't. Marcella wasn't even there, and her nurse and governess had always been around for her at the house. That was the whole point of her, wasn't it? Except now, she, too appeared to ignore her.

 

She wasn't used to this. People didn't ignore her, she ignored them. Right now, though, she would gladly have talked with anyone. Heck, even one of the scullury maids, or Olia, with her oh-I'm-so-superior smirk on her face that her Father, if he really took himself seriously, would wipe off her face with a thrashing. Really, if was a good thing none of her friends knew how soft her family could be, sometimes. Fathersometimes treated Claudilo more like a friend than anything else, and as for Quintus and Olia...well Antonia and Glablia and Beluvia would probably die laughing.

 

Still, right now even Olia was preferable to this - well, just been ignored. Or one of the maids, or  Drufio, or...or anyone. Or, Claudilo. She supposed she should want most of all, as a dutiful Roman daughter, to apologise and seek forgiveness from her father, but somehow she doubted anything she could say would really make a difference. In his presence she got tongue tied often, as she felt the weight of his expectations on her. Claudilo, on the other hand, slave though he technically was, always knew what to say, always knew what to suggest, always seemed to know what she was really thinking. 

 

She sniffed.  Her father had always treated her right, but it was obvious she'd never be his favourite, and she'd stopped trying to live up to her brothers a long, long time ago. Sometimes, it seemed it was more Claudilo, rather than her father, who she dealt with. Claudilo who talked through her problems, Claudilo who listened to her, who took care of her when something went wrong. After all, at the end of the day, who'd dropped everything to fly to Britain to get her out of the cells? Claudilo, not her father. 

 

She stared at the door, willing anyone, just anyone, to come through. No one did, though. She could hear noises in the house. Lukaminka was singing something - stupid bitch, thought Julia coldly, can't even sing in fucking Latin - and the noise of an electric strimmer told her that Gansol was busy with the hedges. But in her room, she was all cut off. She looked at her bookshelf, and decided that she might as well pick something up. Then she remembered that she found reading boring at best and pointless at worst.

 

"Wish I had a bloody maid" muttered Julia. "Then I'd have someone to rant at." She frowned. "Or at least, take it out on her." She'd tried punching her pillows for a bit, but that was really rather unsatisfactory in terms of working off anger.

 

Several hours later though, the door creaked open, and Claudilo appeared.

 

Instantly, she leapt off her bed and threw her arms around him, before he'd had time to react, or for her to realise that, really, for a girl in her position, she shouldn't be hugging him. She squeezed tigher. True, Claudilo was very technically a slave, but only legally, thought Julia. So far as she was concerned he was Claudilo, the man who'd spoiled her silly ever since she was born. Sometimes, she wondered who, between her father and Claudilo, really loved her more...

 

"Oh finally" she exclaimed, and grabbed Claudilo's wrist. "Look, you've got to tell Father . I'm sorry, okay? Really, really sorry, okay. Like, super-duper sorry."

Claudilo didn't answer, but simply began to turn back towards the door. That hurt. Her father ignored her, often enough, unless she had to appear for some electioneering or formal event, where she'd stand with him and smile, but Claudilo always made time for her, no matter how busy he was.

 

"Wait!" shouted Julia, darting forward and shutting the door, barring it with her body. She couldn't be left alone with just her thoughts again!

 

Claudilo just looked at her, sadly, and moved forward.

 

"Father had ordered me not to talk to you, hasn't he?" She stuck her head up, haughtily, the image of Patrician arrogance. "Well, I'm ordering you to disregard what he said."

Claudilo's lips twitched in a half smile, and Julia inwardly whooped. VICTORY!

 

"C'mon, Claudilo, you can at least talk" she continued. "Or at least tell Father I'm sorry. He...he can take away my allowance for a week or so, if he wants." When she'd first been sent to her room, she considered that to be a concession she would not make. However, after realising how angry Father was with her, she'd realised she might have to make some sign of atonement.

 

Claudilo snorted with laughter. "I think he has already done that, Miss Julia. And try "until the stars themselves burn out", rather than a week or so." He shut his mouth quickly, as though reminding himself he was not supposed to be talking to her.

 

Julia winced, but reminded herself that this was not the time for argument. But, Romulus above, no allowance? Until when? Calpria, a scholarship girl she knew at the Academy, actually had to work to get herself money, but Julia really couldn't imagine herself doing that at all. She vaguely wondered what her friends would say if a picture of her bringing plates of food to people went around. It almost made feel slightly bad for eagerly letting every other girl at the Caledonian Academy know that Calpria's grandparents had been slaves; a revelation that had led to Calpria being cut from the handball team and seeing her circle of friends dramatically shrink. 

 

"He's that mad, huh?"

 

"Pretty much. You have really embrassed him, cost him dignity, Miss Julia."

 

Julia sighed. "I know, I know. And I'm sorry. But he can't keep me locked up like this." She looked up at him, not haughtily, but pleadingly. "Look, at least...ask Father for me? Please?" She bit her lip. "He listens to you, at least. I know I'm just a disappointment to him-"

 

"Miss Julia, you know that's not true."

 

Julia blinked. She was a disappointment, she knew that - certainly compared to her high achieving brothers. "Well...maybe. But you could put in a word for me. Please?" She looked at Claudilo with her widest eyes, looking as miserable as she could.

 

After a while, Claudilo nodded, opened the door and slid out.

 

Julia looked herself in the mirror, grinning to herself. She flashed herself a brilliant white smile, tossing her blonde hair. She might not have the brains or ambition or work ethic of her brothers, but even her worst enemy, she reflected, would have to concede she did have a winning manner. With Claudilo on her side, her father, she was sure, would soon relent. 

 

She began to plan how to celebrate her imminant forgiveness. A party, she thought, would be just the ticket, and obviously she'd need to treat herself to some new clothes and jewellry for that. A present, of course, for Claudilo. 

 

Perhaps not much wine, though. She'd learned her lesson when it came to that.

**Author's Note:**

> This one is set a number of years before most of my stories. To be honest, I'm not sure whether Julia's father is genuinely neglectful, simply a busy man not always available for his daughter, and whether Julia would have turned out any differently if he'd been otherwise. Pretty sure she'd always have been a bit of a selfish, self centred woman, though. 
> 
> The Republican = most prestigious - and indeed widely read among the upper echelons of the Republic - weekly paper in Rome. Generally somewhat pro-government and establishment, it is more or less the Republic's 'paper of record'.
> 
> Prosperity Journal = a daily paper, focusing almost entirely on economic news, with a strong free-trade, less regulation outlook. Generally regarded as incredibly dull. Closely aligned with the Golden Sun Party.
> 
> Plebian Guardian = a daily paper, somewhat less prestigious than The Republican , but with the largest readership in the Republic. Closely aligned with the Plebian Front Party. Well known for its snappy wordplay and dubious stories, often involving cancer, 'elites' or foreigners. 
> 
> Invictus = staunchly conservative, Invictus is actually the oldest paper in the Republic, established before the Revolution. Infamous for its attacks on anything deemed 'UnRoman' and densely written editorials featuring as many obscure references as the writer can manage. 
> 
> The Romulist = the official paper of the Romulist Party. Worth reading for its creative and often quite amusing diatribes against the Party's opponents, and bias so blatant its amusing. 
> 
> Loyalty = government sponsored magazine for slaves, but with a surprisingly large non-servile readership. Probably due to the sensible domestic and cooking tips, easy to read nature and sunny outlook.


End file.
